Sunday, September 07, 2008

Breaking the Silence

I find myself peering out the window, waiting for the relentless clouds to yield something more than shade. More than a drop in the temperature. More than a change of the day’s ambiance. I want so badly for it to come, because I know it marks the changing of a season. I feel it coming, moving around inside of me. And therein lay my daily frustration, wrapped up in the absence of something I know I need, but am unsure if I truly want.


While I wait, I have recognized that I am caught up in a familiar game, oftentimes repeating things over again.

It is a game of give and take. Catch and release. Fight or flight. Stretched out behind me are endless lines I have drawn in the sand, then crossed, then drawn again. Something has to give. And I know, without doubt, that what must give is me.

Give. Take.

I caught a glimpse of what it could be. There was something in his eyes. In the composition of a photograph. In the sound of a friend’s new song. It was more than just his song. It was a song for all of us, because we are as family. But if I am to truly thrive and learn to abide with the community around me, I must be willing to let it go. In truth, it is obedience that brings the release.

Catch. Release.

Some days I fight. I approach boldly the issues I with which I wrestle. I set out with the best of intentions. But so often, I give into the very human reaction of flight. Full tilt in the opposite direction. Except I am hardly flying, because I feel my feet firmly bound to this earth. They drag against the momentum we worked so hard to gain. And although progress is not entirely lost, it is slowed. Sometimes I fall forward. Sometimes I fall backward. Sometimes He just holds me in place. And every time…there is grace.

Fight. Flight.

I intently watch the horizon, waiting for that ominous cloud to make an appearance. I am out of words. Out of excuses. Tired of the sound of my own voice asking questions and the finite sayings inside my head. In my restlessness, I hear You speak.

You’re waiting, but are you really thirsty?

I need salt on my tongue. Something to jar loose the block between Him and I. But it comes back around to the place where He leads and I obey. He moves and I respond. I try so hard to make myself change that I forget that He is the Creator. The unmoved mover. The maker of my dreams. The mender of my heart. The lifter of my head.

And so I wait. Patiently. Impatiently. Quietly. Imperfectly. All the while, growing closer to His heart. With every passing hour, I feel Him drawing closer. I sense deeply the change that is afoot. I feel it coming, and obediently stay where I am.

I am waiting for the rain.


Blogger Chris Seitz said...

This is beautiful. It speaks to my situation as well, this is very prophetic. It's good to see you break the silence, I hope the sabbatical was good.

6:46 AM  
Blogger tmamone said...

Yay, Rachel's back!

7:23 AM  
Blogger supersimbo said...

cheers for the visit :)

6:56 AM  

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